


Doubts

by Aniquant



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Friendship (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Dialogue-Only, Drinking & Talking, Historical References, Love Confessions, M/M, Reminiscing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28380561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aniquant/pseuds/Aniquant
Summary: No doubts for Aziraphale!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 11





	Doubts

“Angel, do you ever doubt?”

“Doubt what?” 

“Your decisions. Management decisions. Your beliefs?” 

“No.” 

“No?”

“No.” A sly smile.

So who is the cunning snake here? According to Crowley, doubts are the second nature of Aziraphale. But the demon will nobly refrain from incriminating him.

“If I feel that I do not agree with the proposed plan or task, I simply change the conditions of the problem and solve it in my own way.” Aziraphale explained.

“Sounds good.“

“As it is.” That mysterious half-smile again. 

“Well of course I remember you’d always looked very convincing with a sword, but I mean the ethical side of the question.” 

“What question?"

“Well, for example: why exactly half of all the angels were overthrown in that war? Have you ever felt uncomfortable about it?”

“My dear, it was a terrible mistake, in my opinion, and I didn't feel uncomfortable, I was outraged to the depths of my heart. I wish we'd known each other before.” 

“Would you have liked it more?”

“I don't think so.” 

“Yes, you’ve always had some not-quite-angelic inclinations.”

“What are you talking about?" 

“I’m talking about your craving to test Almighty’s patience. All sorts of minor sins and violations.”

"In the main thing I always remain loyal to him.

"I know, I know.”

“What if I asked you to run away with me somewhere far away from here?” Crowley made a new call. 

“M. And what would we do there?”

“Well, we’d come up with something."

“Don’t get me wrong, my dear, but it seems to me that we can come up with all this here, right?”

"Angel. What about The Rite of Spring?”

“What about it?”

"You didn't doubt it either? This is demonic magic - to induce such intoxicating dreams to a person.”

“I just really wanted to inspire him - and no, I had no doubt. And I don't regret it a bit. I think people are worth it.”

"Speaking of people. Do you know what happened to Jeanne D'Arc?”

"Of course i know. She disappeared right from the flames. And I saw you there. Very noble of you. You completely won me over then.”

“Did i?”

“You did. Struck me literally to the depths of my soul.”

"And you didn’t have any doubts about me either?" 

“What, for example?” 

“That I would have lured you into a trap, made you drink some wine and... That’s it.”

“What’s it?”

“That I would've put you into Satan's hands, say. Or would've given you to my demon buddies for joy.”

“You don't have demon buddies.”

“You couldn't have known that from the beginning.”

“Right. But there was no doubt there either. At first I was just sure you were a vicious enemy. And then I realized that you were not so vicious.”

"Vicious.” 

“Not at all.”

“Angel.”

"All right, all right. You're just awful. Sufficiently.

"Sufficiently for what?" 

The angel did not answer, only smiled slyly and poured them some more. Crowley suddenly turned his attention to the bottle in the angel’s hands. "Wait a minute. Is that the rum?” 

“Ah you’ve just noticed?” Aziraphale's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Santa Maria," new shores - wonderful times.”

"It was a lot of fun, really.”

"Yes. It seems to me that you are a born seafarer. And a pirate. Those shirts fit you so well.”

"Hmm. Ngk. Hhrph…” 

“Your dear Isabella,” by the way, had been grief-stricken for almost a year!”

“What’s the name of the third mast?!” 

"Don't get away from the subject.”

“You know I had to. It was necessary to distract her from the unfortunate Columbus. If you hadn't behaved so angelically self-confident then and hadn’t gifted her so many revelations, the story would have ended much faster.”

"But why? It was very interesting for me to watch you, besides, I knew that you would handle it well.”

"And you didn't doubt it either.”

Aziraphale shook his head silently, smiling. Then he suddenly remembered something. "By the way. Do you remember that artist who painted dead girls?”

“Rosetti?” 

"Yes, that’s the one.”

The angel got up and walked over to one of the shelves. Pulled out a piece of paper. "I found one of his sketches here. But it doesn’t look like a girl, actually.” The angel handed Crowley a yellowed drawing, cheerfully following his rapidly changing face.

“Well yes. Well. Yes. So what?”

“Nothing. You didn't tell me you’d posed for him.”

"I posed for a lot of people.”

“Of course. It is impossible to look at you calmly without risking arousing one’s sense of beauty, and artists are very greedy for this.”

“Not just artists.” Crowley muttered, still embarrassed. 

"Not just them. Poets too.” Azirafael raised his eyes dreamily to the ceiling. 

"Oh, no, I know what you're thinking of!”

“Really?”

“This friend of yours, Oscar, and your "metaphysical friendship." 

“Look who's talking! Your dalliances with Jim put all of America and half of Europe upside down.”

"Don’t mention Jim. It’d all been very difficult. Besides! I know you had a hand in this story, too. There were rumors that there was a "divine" intervention at the crucial moment. And it's unlikely that it was Gabriel.” 

Azirafael lifted his nose, but did not comment on this tirade. Then he softened and said quietly. "Otherwise, he would not have made it to 27." He looked at the demon who was frowning at his shoes. "I'm sorry to call it that. These are not "dalliances", of course.”

“Forget it. Oscar is also an excellent writer." Crowley grunted apologetically. 

They clinked glasses, then Crowley got up and began to stroll along the bookcases to distract himself a little.

"Tell me, have you ever thought what would have happened if it hadn't been for the Overthrow, the Exile - all that? Would we all still have been sitting together in Eden and herding these sheep?"

“Are you talking about the first people now?" 

The demon shrugged his shoulders without turning around. Aziraphale thought for a moment before answering. “Probably, yes. But you know, I think it's all for the best. So many interesting things have happened since then.”

“And so many haven’t happened either.”

"Yes, but that means we have it just ahead of us. 

"You think so?"

“Am sure.” 

"Your unwavering confidence scares me a little. Do you know for sure that this is not stubbornness?”

"Here's what else to expect from you. Our centuries-old enmity must have shell-shocked you a little. Just the second bottle, and you're already asking for trouble.”

"I'm not asking for anything yet.”

"Then maybe it's time?"

“And who else is shell-shocked here…”

"Actually, yes. I’ve been meaning to tell you long ago. You have really beautiful eyes.”

  
  


Oh, my God. Oh, damn it. 

  
  


“Angel?" 

“Yes, my dear?”

"You’ve decided to make fun of me?" 

“No, of course not. I just thought we've known each other long enough, so you should know."

“Should know what?" Crowley asked, cautiously licking his lips and turning his back to the bookcase. Aziraphale rose from his armchair, straightened his jacket.

“That I find you very beautiful.” One step. 

“Attractive.” The second one. 

“Interesting.” The third. 

“Exciting.”

He came close to the demon and pulled him by the tie. “And yes, you know, Crowley. I really never doubt.”


End file.
